


break/even

by LuxKen27



Category: Kids Incorporated
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-25
Updated: 2010-09-25
Packaged: 2017-10-12 04:51:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxKen27/pseuds/LuxKen27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Season 5.] Once upon a time, she'd fallen in love. Once upon a time, he'd broken her heart. On the eve of her junior prom, they find themselves with a second chance – if only they are willing to risk it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	break/even

**Author's Note:**

> This story *is* compatible with my _Stacy in Bloom_ universe, but you don't have to be familiar with it to enjoy this piece. Further notes can be found at my [Dreamwidth](https://luxken27.dreamwidth.org/26955.html).
> 
>  **DISCLAIMER:** The _Kids Incorporated_ concept, storyline, and characters are © 1984 -1993 Thomas Lynch/Gary Biller/MGM Television/20th Century Fox Home Entertainment/Disney Channel. Any resemblance to any person currently living or deceased is unintended (aka, I am writing about the _characters_ , not the _actors_ who portray them). No money is being made from the creation of this material. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> "[Dedicated to the One I Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0cHdKGVD-Ds)" © 1961/66 Ralph Bass, Lowman Pauling, & John Phillips  
> "[(You're My) Soul and Inspiration](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=83BLD1MC4o4)" © 1966 Barry Mann, Cynthia Weil, & Bill Medley

The six members of Kids Inc streamed into the store room backstage at the P*lace, more than ready to take their final break of the afternoon.  It had been an intense couple of sets already, and they were one song away from being done for the week.  The Kid, hardly a kid now at seventeen, slid into a chair in front of one of the vanities.

“Thank God for band breaks,” he moaned from under his towel.

His best friend Stacy shot him a cheeky grin from her spot at the table.  “We only have five minutes, Kid,” she reminded him.

“ _I know_ ,” he replied with an exaggerated sigh.  “Hardly enough time to catch our breath!”

The others laughed, save fourteen-year-old Kenny, who had exchanged his towel for a stack of sheet music.  “I really think we should go over this harmony, guys,” he said.  “It’s in five parts!”

But he was the only one interested in the music at the moment, it seemed.  Devyn, who along with Connie had been eyeing the Kid with no small amount of interest, could no longer hold her curiosity at bay.  “So, Kid,” she piped up, elbowing Connie in the ribs, “who are you taking to the prom?”

The Kid didn’t move from his dramatically sprawled position, though he did lift the towel from his face.  “What?” he asked, as if he hadn’t heard the question correctly.

“We saw them all out in the audience,” Connie supplied.  “Cathy, Rhonda, Lisa, Yvette…you know, all the girls who’ve asked _you_ to the prom?”

Richie snorted.  “Why do _you_ guys care?” he inquired, sending his drumsticks into an absent roll on the top of the table.  “You’re not old enough to go to the prom.”

Connie, the youngest of the group at thirteen, wasn’t even in high school yet.  She pouted.  “We’re just curious, that’s all,” she replied.  “It’s not like we keep secrets around here!”

Stacy’s eyes fell to her lap.  _Well, maybe not all of us…_

“Have you made your decision yet?” Devyn pressed, turning her attention back to the Kid.

The Kid shrugged.  “Well, not exactly.”

Devyn’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head.  “What are you waiting for?” she cried.  “It’s coming up soon, and it’s, like, the most important night of your life!”

The Kid lifted a brow as he looked at her.  “Simmer down, Devyn,” he advised with a chuckle.  “It’s just the prom, not a funeral or something.”  He shrugged.  “Besides, I’m still waiting for my first choice to get back to me.” 

Devyn gaped at him.  “Kid, the prom is _tomorrow_!  If she hasn’t told you yet?  Here’s a hint – she’s not going.  Not with _you_ , at least.”

“Guys?  Music?  Five part harmony?” Kenny broke in, waving his arms.  “Is _any_ of this sinking in?”

The Kid hesitated, not wanting to accept Devyn’s words as truth.  In spite of his bluster, he was looking forward to attending his prom, if only because it’d be the last school function he went to, save graduation.  He _did_ have someone special in mind, but…

He sent a hopeful look in Stacy’s direction, but she quickly rebuffed him.  “Don’t look at me,” she laughed.  “I have a date!”

Mercifully, her declaration shifted Devyn’s and Connie’s attentions to her.  “You do?” Devyn asked excitedly. 

“Who are you going with?” Connie inquired at exactly the same moment.

“I haven’t heard _you_ talk about the prom, Stacy,” Richie added, punctuating his contribution with an errant drum lick.

Stacy shrugged, fighting the flush that was already rising up the back of her neck.  “There’s not much to say, really,” she replied.  “My date is a surprise.”  _Maybe even for me_ , she added silently.  _I don’t even know if he remembers the promise he made…and I’m probably pretty stupid to be holding him to it anyway._

“Ooh, how mysterious!” Devyn proclaimed.  She and Connie clasped hands and shared smiles over the idea of the ultimate mystery date.  “How romantic!” 

“Yeah,” Stacy sighed, a weak smile rising to her lips as her stomach churned.

“ _Who cares_?” Kenny insisted, waving the sheet music he still futilely held in his hands.  “Can we get back to the situation at hand, _please_? …guys?”

The Kid looked thoughtful, stroking his chin with one hand.  “Maybe I should just draw names out of a hat,” he mused aloud.

“Maybe you should just _decide_ ,” Devyn teased.  “Come on, how hard can it be?”

The Kid could only stare at the pair of them incredulously.  “This, from the ‘it’s the most important night of your life’ girls?!” 

Before Connie or Devyn could defend themselves, Riley stuck his head in the room.  “All right, guys,” he announced, leaning against the garish pink door.  “It’s time for your next number.  The natives are restless!”

“But we didn’t have a chance to practice!” Kenny wailed.

Richie clapped him on the shoulder as the others began to stand and stretch.  “Guess we’ll just have to wing it,” he shrugged.

“Easy for you to say,” Kenny grumbled as he followed him out the door.  Devyn and Connie followed, relieved to be out from under the Kid’s scrutiny after their probing questions.  He was right on their heels, until he realized Stacy was still dawdling at the table, totally lost in thought.

“Earth to Stacy!” he called, giving her shoulders a gentle shake.  “Come in for a landing, space cadet, we have another number to do!”

Stacy blushed sheepishly as she gazed up at her friend.  They’d always been close, and he’d always had her back, even from halfway around the world.  She was so happy when he returned from his exchange year abroad that he decided to rejoin the band…especially since Ryan departed for college around the same time.

She bit her lip as she stood up.  “What if he doesn’t come?” she asked quietly.

The Kid threw his arm around her shoulders, understanding her cryptic words completely.  “Then I’ll take you,” he replied.

Stacy rolled her eyes.  “And let me ruin your perfect senior prom?” she intoned.

“You won’t ruin it, Stacy,” he said as they walked backstage.  “In fact, it wouldn’t _be_ the perfect prom if you weren’t there.”

“Thanks, Kid,” she replied gratefully, picking up one of the last two remaining microphones and taking her place on the stage.

He shrugged.  “No, thank the school for having the foresight to sponsor junior/senior proms, thus allowing us to share this experience together,” he declared wryly.  He gave her hand one final squeeze as the curtain came up.  “Don’t worry, Stace – it’ll all work out.  It always does.”

~*~

“Once again, Kids Incorporated.”

The stage was dark as the members of the band took their places, Richie behind his drums, and the others on barstools, arranged in a simple, straight line at the front of the stage.  Smoke clouded at their feet from the fog machines in the wings, giving the whole atmosphere a dreamy, lush quality.  The power of the piece was in the five-part harmony that Kenny was so insistent to practice at the last minute, instead of any sort of gaudy production.  This was Stacy’s favorite way to end a set, and an evening…although this song in particular had taken quite a bit of time to grow comfortable with again.

“While I’m far away from you, my baby,” Devyn sang, opening the song on the lead line, her voice soft yet strong as it carried over the hushed audience.  “And I know it’s hard for you, my baby…because it’s hard for me, my baby…”

_…and the darkest hour is just before dawn…_

Stacy’s eyes drifted shut, and she willed the tears rising behind her eyes to stay at bay.  This song brought back so many memories – some good, some bad, not all unwanted…

She used to play this song every time he left, while he was away at Julliard and she was stuck behind in their old neighborhood, at their old school, where they had first fallen in love.  She had played the record until it’d worn out, seeking solace in its hopeful desolation, in the strength of the Mamas and the Papas’ harmony, in the knowledge of how and why it was originally written.  This was _their song_ , even if not by their own choice…

…and it had taken a long time after their breakup to be able to even listen to it again, much less sing it.

But her bandmates were counting on her.

“Each night before you go to bed, my baby,” she sang, joining the full swell of the sweet harmony, “whisper a little prayer for me, my baby / and tell all the stars above…”

“This is dedicated to the one I love,” Kenny and the Kid finished, earning a rush of appreciative applause and whistles from the audience.

  _…life can never be exactly like we want it to be…_

They were the perfect couple.  Sure, the road hadn’t exactly been smooth – they had their crises, and squabbles, and fair share of heart-to-hearts – but it had been worth all the turmoil.  The summer after her freshman year, she’d told him she loved him, and he’d returned the sentiment.  Those precious few months were absolutely magical, a leisurely stretch in time during which they completely devoted themselves to each other, and their relationship.

It was perfect – _they_ were perfect.  And then…he fulfilled his lifelong dream, moving into the city to attend the most prestigious conservatory in the country.  His leaving was hard, and only got harder each time he did it, until there was nothing left of their perfect, beautiful, wonderful relationship, except stress and insecurity.  Distance ripped apart what time had built, and she had never fully recovered from it.

_…I could be satisfied knowing you love me…_

Maybe it would’ve been easier if he’d cheated, or if they’d fought, or had some other huge, explosive, dynamic ending to the relationship…but instead, they simply drifted apart.  His world had opened before him at college, with new friends and interests and opportunities.  He’d tried – God knows, they’d _both tried_ , so hard, to pull the pieces back together – but in the end, he was beyond her, and had little interest in revisiting the petty hell of high school.

The breakup was inevitable and tearful.  She could still feel that final embrace, the heat of his arms wrapped around her back, squeezing her tightly, like he didn’t _want_ to let go, but realized he _had_ to.  They’d exchanged whispered promises to stay friends, and parted company that bitter cold night, almost exactly a year to the day of their first real date. 

Her tears didn’t stop for a solid week following that, and she’d never been so grateful for having such loving and supportive friends as she was then.  Renee visited every day from Columbia, and the Kid brought her chicken soup in bed and told funny stories and sometimes just held her when she needed it.  By the time spring semester started, she was ready to face the world – and the others – with some semblance of a smile.

It had gotten easier as time had passed, but even now – a year later – she had to admit, she’d never really gotten over him, or the demise of their relationship.

She loved him, and she was afraid that she always would.

“And it’s something that everybody needs,” Stacy sang, still finding her cue in the midst of her memories.

“While I’m far away from you, my baby,” the band chorused, “whisper a little prayer for me, my baby…”

Stacy opened her eyes, glancing over at the Kid, who sat beside her on stage.  “Because it’s hard for me, my baby,” the girls crooned.  He reached over and gave her hand a light squeeze, before Connie and Stacy’s voices dropped out, leaving Devyn to repeat her earlier, haunting line:  “And the darkest hour is just before dawn.”

As the backing musicians played the short instrumental interlude, the band members rose from their seats, falling into a gentle swaying rhythm as the song swelled towards an ultimate climax.  Stacy and the Kid clasped hands, descending the stage steps, during the repeat of the chorus, moving forward in the audience to walk up to the middle riser. 

“This is dedicated,” the Kid began.

“To the one I love,” Stacy sang.

“This is dedicated,” Kenny joined in, picking up the higher tones of the Kid’s melody.

“To the one I love,” Connie and Devyn added, filling in the final pieces of harmony.

“This is ded-i-ca-ted,” Stacy and the Kid concluded, raising their joined hands between them as they shared a smile.

The audience erupted into thunderous applause, some of them stamping their feet as others stood for an ovation.  The group bowed, and Stacy and the Kid turned, jumping off the riser and joining the others on stage for another curtain call.

“That was really awesome, guys,” Kenny conceded a few moments later, as the others drew around him in a loose circle.

“When you got it, you _got_ it,” the Kid proclaimed with a grin, buffing his nails on his shirt.

“And we definitely have it,” Devyn agreed.

The chatter of the others faded into the background as Stacy looked up, her gaze immediately transfixed to the far corner of the room.  Her heart began to thud heavily in her chest and her palms turned clammy, her microphone slipping from her hands.  It hit the floor of the stage with a loud _thud!_ , immediately drawing the attention of her friends.

“Stacy?  You okay?” Richie asked, furrowing his brow.

Stacy paid him no heed.  “I don’t believe it,” she breathed, tears once again prickling at the sides of her eyes.  She could only stand, stunned, as the figure she couldn’t tear her gaze away from slowly began to wind his way through the crowd, towards the stage – towards _her_.  “I just – don’t believe it!”

“Hey, everyone,” called an all-too-familiar voice.

“Oh, my God, it’s Ryan!” Connie squealed, hopping off the stage and throwing her arms around him.  “What an unexpected surprise!”

“We didn’t think we’d see you again until summer,” Devyn added, impatiently waiting her turn to greet her former bandmate.  “How’s everything at school?”

“It’s good, it’s good,” he laughed, enduring hugs from everyone – even Riley, who’d come over to see what all the commotion was about.  “Everything’s going really well – and I hope this isn’t an unexpected visit for _every_ one.”  He approached Stacy, who was hanging back from the others, not quite able to meet his eyes as he stared down at her.

He reached out with both hands.  “It’s good to see you, Stacy,” he said quietly.

He still had that ability to make her weak in the knees with the slightest touch.  “It’s good to see you, too,” she managed to choke out, all too distracted by the heat that flowed up her arms as she clasped his hands.  She lifted her eyes to his, a shiver unexpectedly bolting down her spine as she stared into the dark emerald depths.  He was beautiful, absolutely beautiful, green eyes and pale skin framed by a thatch of thick black hair.  Oh, how she used to love running her fingers through his hair while he held her, feeling so safe and loved in his tight, warm embrace…

His brow creased as his expression clouded with concern.  “I hope you haven’t forgotten,” he intoned, “or else I’m going to feel like a fool.”

“I didn’t forget,” she replied quickly, wishing she could add that she hadn’t doubted him, either.  But it had been _such_ a long time ago, and it was _such_ a silly promise to begin with –

But he didn’t look terribly amused at the moment.  “I never break my promises, Stacy,” he said.  “And I’d love to take you to your prom, if you still want me to.”

“I do,” she replied, twining her arms around his neck, the muted gasps of surprise from her friends not even making a dent into her consciousness.  All she could think about was the way his arms felt around her as he returned the hug, all at once strange and familiar and deeply satisfying.  She’d seen him many times since their breakup, and even hugged him once or twice, but this felt almost like slipping back into the past.  She’d never stopped loving him, she’d never truly moved on from the end of their relationship – and that’s what scared her the most.

Could she make it through the next evening without her heart breaking all over again?

~*~

The night was pleasantly cool, the sky clear and bright the following evening, as Ryan and Stacy arrived at the school’s auditorium.  Prom was already well underway, with music blasting from the building into the parking lot, where a few couples and groups of friends were still milling about, chatting excitedly.  The two slowed their stride as they passed by, searching the crowd for a familiar face or two. 

After a moment, Stacy shrugged.  “Maybe he’s inside?” she suggested, rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms in a vain attempt to generate some heat.  Her long, pale blue formal was gorgeous, but also sleeveless – and the accompanying shawl wrap was worthless against the biting April breeze.

Ryan wrapped one arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to her side.  “Here’s hoping,” he replied with a smile.  “After hearing all about his agonizing date drama, I’m curious to see who he ultimately chose – or maybe I should say, who ultimately chose _him_.”

Stacy suppressed a nervous shudder as the two threaded their way through the crowd.  Already, a couple of the kids were throwing curious looks her way, and dimly, she wondered how long it would be until it was all over the dance that she had come with her ex-boyfriend.  In her mind’s eye, she could already see the snotty senior girls reacting – _“Pathetic much?”_ – perhaps accompanied by a derisive sneer.  She swallowed hard, her stomach churning, and wondered for one inexplicable moment if she really wanted to pass through those double doors.

Ryan squeezed her shoulder, quickly bringing her back to reality.  “You okay?” he queried, glancing down at her.

One look at his expectant expression soothed away her doubts.  She was here – and she was here _with him_ – to have a good time, and to celebrate the end of the school year.  “Yeah,” she nodded.  “Just a little nervous, I guess.” 

They pushed through the double doors, almost immediately running into a jumble of dressy couples.  The lobby had been set up for the official photographer, who was off to one side, near the bathrooms.  _I wonder whose bright idea that was_ , Stacy mused wryly, glancing at the line that was already forming outside the ladies’ room.  They managed to squeeze a bit further inside and, with a mutual shrug, decided it would be better to get this part of the evening over with sooner rather than later.  The line moved surprisingly fast, and soon enough it was their turn.  The photographer made a point to fuss over them, posing and reposing until he was satisfied.  Stacy found she adored the final product, the way he had made her single, red rose – received in lieu of a corsage – a focal point of the image.  Before her date could protest, she ordered a dozen, cheekily promising to send one to his grandparents back in Ohio.

Whatever small measure of relaxation she’d gleaned from the silly photography session vanished almost immediately as they neared the auditorium room doors.  On each side stood a member of the uptight prom committee, whose year-long battles over theme, decoration, and even location had now passed into legend among the junior and senior classes. 

“Here you go,” one of them said curtly, shoving a ballot in Stacy’s hands.  “Enjoy.”

 _I’d enjoy my evening more without your sour attitude,_ Stacy thought with a frown.  For all the work they’d put into the event, it seemed none of them were pleased with the final product.  She left them standing at their posts without comment, however, as they finally entered the auditorium itself.

Stacy’s breath caught in her throat.  The room was absolutely enchanting, decorated in swathes of gold, silver, and blue.  Stars twinkled from the recesses of the impossibly high ceiling; the fabrics on the walls matched the cloths draped over the tables, and the area cleared for dancing was bathed in a soft blue spotlight.  On stage, a live band rocked the house, alternating with a DJ spinning records during their breaks.  Already the place was pretty packed, with equal numbers mingling near the food, at the tables, and on the dance floor.

“So what do you think?” she asked her date, who stood at her elbow, taking in the entirety of the setting for himself.

Ryan shrugged.  “It’s still not really my scene,” he replied, his expression dubious, “but if I’m going to make an idiot of myself by attempting to dance, at least it’ll be in front of your classmates and not mine.”  He glanced about, a teasing air descending over him.  “They still think I’m cool, don’t they?  Or have you disabused them of that notion?”

She elbowed him in the ribs, unable to suppress the smile that rose to her lips.  “You’re cool,” she assured him.  “Haven’t you noticed that everyone is staring at you?”

Even now, as they stood near the doorway, Stacy could feel the covert stares of the other girls checking out her date – and _definitely_ not finding him wanting.  His already striking features were only heightened by the tasteful cut of his tux, complete with monochromatic tie.  He looked like he’d stepped out of the pages of a glossy fashion magazine…at least from the ankles up.  Even in the most formal of formalwear, one was hard pressed to make him part with his beloved Converse sneakers.

He smiled, drawing her close with one arm around her shoulders.  “I thought they were all staring at _you_ ,” he replied with a teasing smile.  “I know I haven’t been able to tear my gaze away.”

She blushed, unsure of how seriously to take the compliment, considering the lightness of his tone.  She had fallen in love with her formal at first glance, admiring each of its princess-like details, from the fitted bodice, to the tulle-lined floor-length skirt, to the matching fabric wrap.  A beautiful, upswept hairstyle and simple gold jewelry completed her look, along with the gorgeous red rose he’d given her when he’d picked her up.  She lifted the flower to her nose, hoping it would help shield the blush that had risen to her cheeks, as she searched the crowd for their friends.

“Over there,” he said quietly, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned down to speak.  He pointed into the crowd, bringing her attention to a grinning figure who was waving wild arms.  “I think that’s him.”

She shook her head.  “Only the Kid,” she mused, waving back before starting off in his direction.  As the two drew closer, she realized he was alternately grooving to the beat of the music and beckoning them, and the entire image made her laugh.

“ _Now_ it’s the perfect prom,” the Kid shouted, grabbing his best friend’s hands and swinging her into an impromptu twirl.  “I was wondering when you’d get here!”

“I can’t believe you’re on time,” Ryan observed, clapping the Kid’s shoulder.  “Whatever happened to ‘making an appearance’?”

The Kid smirked.  “You can thank my date for that,” he informed his friends, turning to his left and reaching for a cute, petite girl sitting at one of the tables.  “Stacy, Ryan, you guys remember Challyn, don’t you?”

“Sure!” Stacy said as Challyn stood.  She had briefly been a member of the Kids Inc dance troupe way back in junior high.  She had blossomed into a beautiful girl since, and tonight was wearing a peach-colored dress which perfectly highlighted her skin tone and slim figure.

“My first choice,” the Kid confirmed in a low voice as Stacy and Challyn shook hands.

“I can see why,” she heard Ryan murmur appreciatively.

A Madonna song started blaring from the speakers just then, causing a smile to light up the Kid’s face.  “C’mon, Stacy, we have to dance!” he declared, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the crowd before she could protest.  She could only glance back helplessly over her shoulder at their dates, who wore matching wry expressions as they settled back at the table.

“All right, spill it,” the Kid said, twirling his friend around the dance floor again before settling into a groove. 

“What?” Stacy questioned, dancing beside him.

The Kid gave her his patented ‘You Know What I’m Talking About, Don’t Make Me Say It’ look.  “How’s it going so far?” he clarified.  “You were so worried it wouldn’t happen, after all.”  He drew her close for a cheek to cheek moment, a wide grin splitting his face.  “Is it everything you dreamed of?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his high-energy inquiries.  “Well, not exactly,” she replied as he spun her into another twirl.  She inched a bit closer, so as not to share their entire conversation with the dance floor.  “I mean – it’s just – weird, you know?”

“No,” the Kid replied with a smile.  “I can’t say I’ve ever had the occasion to date an ex.”  He pulled the rose from her fingertips and broke the stem, nesting the flower at the crown of her complicated hairstyle.  “Then again, I’ve never thought any of my exes shouldn’t be exes, either.”

Stacy blushed.  “It’s like – we’re friends, but not exactly?  I don’t know how to explain it.  I love being around him, and I’m so happy he agreed to be my date, but it’s really hard not to have expectations.”

“Glitter and moonlight _do_ conspire to make romance,” the Kid observed.

She nodded.  “Right – and I don’t know how he feels, because everything he’s doing?  Is what he _used_ to do.  The flower, the little hugs, the compliments?”  She sighed.  “I’m confused.  It’s like he’s a familiar stranger, a comfortable friend, but I don’t know what to expect.  I don’t know what _he_ expects.”  She peered at her friend thoughtfully.  “You’re a guy – do you have any insight for me?”

The Kid snorted.  “No guy waits around for two years to go to a prom with a girl he isn’t interested in,” he advised her, “especially if he never went to his own.  That being said…”  He pulled her into a hug, lowering his voice as he spoke in her ear.  “Be careful, Stace.  The last thing I want is to see you get hurt, especially tonight.”

As the song drew to a close, Stacy twined her arms around her friend, returning the embrace.  The Kid had always been her best friend, and they had truly been through thick and thin together over the years.  She was grateful for his support, if not his warning.  It was hard not to get her hopes up, but she definitely wanted to finish this evening, however magical or romantic or destined it would be, with her heart intact.

She’d never really gotten over him the first time – she wasn’t at all sure she would be able to pick up the pieces again.

“Speaking of dates,” the Kid said a few minutes later, breaking into Stacy’s reverie as the DJ spun another song, “it looks like ours are up to no good.”

Stacy opened her eyes, glancing over the Kid’s shoulder.  In the distance, she could see the table where Ryan and Challyn were sitting.  The two had their heads together and were working on something, pointing and laughing and writing on a sheet of paper.  They had attracted the attention of a few bystanders, which made Stacy frown.  Just then, the sea of people between them shifted, blocking the table from view.

“Don’t you feel bad for neglecting your date?” Stacy asked, absently moving along with the music.

“Would you relax?” the Kid replied.  “I think its kinda cool that they’re getting along so well.”

“Unless they’re comparing notes about how their dates brought them here and then dumped them,” she chided wryly.  “That wasn’t exactly nice of us, you know.”

The Kid shrugged.  “I figured they wouldn’t mind a dance or two.”

“Or five?” Stacy questioned dryly.

The Kid took her hand, threading through the couples on the dance floor and moving back towards the table he’d claimed earlier.  Ryan and Challyn glanced up as they approached, and quickly pushed their papers into the hands of those looking on. 

Challyn stood gracefully as the Kid approached, taking his free hand in hers.  “Is it my turn to claim you?” she asked, amused.  “How about a dance?”

The Kid looked confused as she led him back to the dance floor.  Stacy eyed her date with an assessing stare, leaning heavily against the only recently vacated chair.  “What are you up to?”

“Oh, nothing,” Ryan replied with a captivating smile.

Stacy narrowed her eyes.  She didn’t believe him for a second, but figured it probably wasn’t worth the effort.  “Okay,” she mused, sliding into the seat beside him.

He reached for her hand.  “I like what you’ve done to your hair,” he said.  “It…reminds me…”

His voice trailed off and his gaze turned thoughtful.  Stacy’s heart began to pound against her ribs, words bubbling up inside her.  She wanted to tell him that she remembered, too, and she missed those days, when he’d leave a flower in her locker every morning before school.  She’d created a minor fashion trend among her classmates by pinning them in her hair…and now the Kid’s innocent ministrations brought all of that rushing back.

But she was unsure.  His words were so vague, his tone practically unreadable – what did it remind him of?  Her?  Their time together?  The first time they’d kissed?  Their breakup?  All of the stress and strain of his senior year, trying to hold together a fracturing band, get into Julliard, and deal with their relationship all at the same time?

Before she could formulate a proper response to his musings, he laced his fingers through hers, scooting a bit closer at the table.  “How have you been lately?” he asked quietly, somberly, leaning close to hear her over the blaring music. 

She swallowed hard.  At least he’d given her a question this time, not that it made it any easier to answer.  “Okay, I guess,” she finally said.  “Things are good with the band, and at school.  How about you?”

A slow smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.  “Things are good,” he replied.  “Julliard is everything I expected – and more.  Can you imagine going to school and doing nothing but studying your favorite subject all day?  It’s awesome.”  He shook his head.  “It’s exhilarating to be around other people who are so talented and driven.  I’ve met a couple of really great people, and it’s been fun hanging around the city with them, going to all the little dive bars and tiny nightclubs and hearing some really intricate, progressive music.”

Stacy smiled weakly.  _He’s so far beyond me_ , she thought morosely, her eyes falling to their joined hands.  _Which makes me wonder even more about why he came back.  Is he just here as a friend?  Does he want something more?  Does he miss me, like I miss him?  Or is he dating one of these new, awesome, exhilarating friends, some girl who’s progressive enough to allow her boyfriend to fulfill an old promise he made eons ago?_  

Her own what-if questions were torturous.  She couldn’t help but feel like a fool.  It was the elephant in the room, the question that would always nag at their friendship.  There had been no acrimony or animosity when they split up, only a feeling of something lost, never to be regained.  They had agreed to remain friends, and, for the most part, they had.  Slowly but surely, she’d learned how to tamp down her feelings for him, how to interact with him without letting all of that bleed through.  He was still her friend, he’d just…grown up, and left her behind. 

It was foolish to think prom would solve everything, and she was foolish to bring him, hoping it would.

“Stacy, are you okay?”  Ryan’s voice permeated her ever-increasing cloud of misery.  She glanced up, surprised to see concern etched into his features.  “I didn’t mean to upset you…”

“Don’t worry – ” she began, only to be interrupted by him.

“I mean, it was _only_ a suggestion,” he reiterated, “and you by no means have to take me up on it.  You saw how much I struggled to get in, and you know your own limits better than I do.  But if you’re interested, it’s certainly an opportunity you might pursue.”

“W-what?” Stacy choked out, absolutely confused.

Ryan granted her a patient smile.  “I said you should think about pursuing your singing even after high school.  Maybe try to study professionally somewhere – even Julliard.”

“Oh.”  She felt strangely deflated, but managed to collect herself.  “No, no, it’s not that…I guess my mind drifted elsewhere.”

He ducked his head, his gaze meeting hers.  “You’d fit in, in the city,” he assured her.  “I know I’d love to see more of you.”

There it was again – another one of those enigmatic statements she could take a thousand different ways.  Had he always spoken in riddles like this, or was it just hard to read him because her of her own conflicting feelings?

 _You’re not a tongue-twisted kid with a crush anymore_ , she admonished herself.  _You’re sixteen years old, and you’ve done this before.  If you want to know how a boy feels about you, **just ask**!_

Before she could work up the nerve to address the heaviness that permeated the air around them, the screech of feedback from the live mic on stage assaulted the room.  “Heh heh, sorry folks!” called the faculty advisor of the prom committee.  “Now then – it’s time to announce the names of your prom king and queen!  Can we hear a round of applause for all of our fine nominees?”

The low din of applause – along with a few whistles and cheers – filled the space.  Stacy closed her eyes, feeling all of her courage desert her as Ryan let go of her hand.

“It was a _very_ close race,” the advisor intoned, “but we’ve counted and recounted all the ballots, and now it’s time to crown our winners!”  He paused.  “Are you guys excited?”

The clamor increased, with the advisor on stage egging everyone on. 

Stacy could only sigh and roll her eyes.  “Can we just get on with this, please?” she muttered under her breath, cutting a look from the corner of her eyes at her date.  She was surprised to see that Ryan appeared more amused than annoyed – odd, considering his general aversion to prom culture.

“And this year’s prom king is…”  The drummer of the onstage band humored the advisor with a drumroll, as the latter dramatically unsealed an envelope.  “…‘the Kid’!”  He paused, faltering at the surprising result.  “The kid?” he repeated, confused, until a whoop of praise was unleashed, the Kid strolling up to the platform amongst the cheers of his classmates.

The advisor composed himself, realizing it wasn’t some colossal joke.  “The Kid!” he repeated, gesturing towards the boy as he climbed up on stage and was crowned by another faculty chaperone.  He stepped forward and anointed the crowd with the gaudy faux scepter, much to the delight of his friends.

Even Stacy had to crack a smile.  “Well, I suppose it can’t get more perfect than that,” she observed, joining the rollicking ovation.

Beside her, Ryan merely smiled.

“And now, for your queen,” the advisor continued as the applause died down.  He pulled out another sealed envelope, dramatically ripping open the flap.  The auditorium fell into a hush as his eyes scanned the page before looking up again.  “For the first time in the school’s history, we have a write-in winner!”

Another cheer went up from the crowd, although distinctly across the room from where the prom queen candidates stood, looking furious.

She glanced over her shoulder, shocked to see Ryan grinning at her as his hands closed over her shoulders.




“Congratulations,” he whispered in her ear before gently pushing her towards the stage. 

Surprise flooded through her as she wound her way through the crowd, nearly in a daze.  Her mind was in overdrive, trying to figure out how this happened.  It was rare enough for a junior girl to be crowned queen, but _her_?  She hadn’t even been on the ballot!  To win as a write-in must’ve taken a huge surge of support, and who…?

“Congrats, Stace!” the Kid said, pulling her into an awkward side hug as the faculty chaperone attempted to put the tiara on her head.  “This is totally awesome!”

“Did you do this?” she whispered furiously at him.

He shook his head, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and stepping forward, so that they both might take a bow and accept the roar of applause from their prom ‘subjects’.

“Then who did?” she asked, reaching up to catch her crown with one hand.

The Kid discreetly pointed into the crowd with the end of his scepter as a huge bouquet of flowers was placed in Stacy’s arms.  She followed his line of vision and noticed Challyn grinning and clapping wildly…and her own date, who stood beside her, looking rather pleased and satisfied himself.

“I don’t believe this,” Stacy breathed as the faculty advisor droned on about the tradition of electing prom representatives.

“That’s what they were conspiring,” the Kid informed her matter-of-factly.  “I finally got it out of Challyn.  It only took about ten songs for her to confess, but when she did?”  He grinned at her.  “I was so happy.  I couldn’t have picked a better queen.”

Stacy curled her arms around the flowers.  “Thanks, Kid,” she replied, matching his smile with one of her own.  “You guys sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

“How do you think we should repay the favor?” he mused.

The two exchanged a look, and nodded simultaneously.  At that moment, the faculty advisor announced the king and queen’s dance, and the dance floor slowly cleared of the other couples and classmates.  Stacy set aside her flowers, and the Kid his scepter; as they descended the steps of the stage, they kept walking, past the dance floor, until they came upon their dates.

“We wanted to share the first dance with you,” the Kid explained, taking Challyn’s hands in his.

Stacy quickly followed his lead, reaching for Ryan before he could protest.  “Right,” she agreed.  “It’s only fair.”

“Aww, you guys are too sweet,” Challyn replied, more than happy to follow the king back to the center of the dance floor.

“Let’s go,” Ryan simply said, gesturing for Stacy to lead the way.

She was surprised; she expected some form of protest, however minimal or light in nature.  He wasn’t a dancer, and never had been; even for their concerts with Kids Inc, he’d never been one to do much more than sway along.  Still, if he wasn’t going to object, neither was she; she turned and followed her friends back into the spotlight.

After the false start, the band began to play again, surprising them all as they broke out an old classic from the Righteous Brothers.  The silky smooth lead singer’s baritone filled the hall as the two couples began to dance.  Stacy wrapped her arms around Ryan’s shoulders, feeling distinctly like she was an object on display, so careful to not break the façade.  It was hard, however, with the gentle touch of his fingers against her back, the way their hips moved together in rhythm, the way the space between them seemed to close with each step and sway to the beat.  It would be so _easy_ , she thought, to lean against him, fall into the familiar comfort and warmth of his embrace.  All of those old feelings were rushing back to the surface, the secret dream to do exactly _this_ – dance in his arms at the prom – finally, dreamily fulfilled.

As the band dipped into the first chorus, Stacy dared glance up, intrigued to see a thoughtful cast to her date’s expression.  His eyes seemed a bit misty, his look far away, and her heart picked up speed a little.

“This is certainly an interesting choice of songs for the king and queen’s dance,” he commented thoughtfully.

Stacy shrugged her shoulders.  “Well, it _is_ a terribly romantic song,” she observed.

A small smile pulled at his lips.  “Maybe that’s why it reminds me of you,” he replied, gathering her a bit closer in his arms.

Stacy had to remind herself to breathe.  “Why?  Because _I’m_ terribly romantic?” she managed to respond, her heart racing like a runaway train against her ribs.

He shook his head.  “No,” he said.  “It’s because this song perfectly describes the way I feel about you.”

The unexpected words nearly stopped her in her tracks, but he pressed on, taking the lead, swinging her away from the watchful eyes of their friends.  The spoken words of the bridge mingled and echoed through her mind as he continued to speak, so calmly, so rationally.

_…You’re my reason for laughing, for crying, for living, and for dying…_

“It’s silly to admit, especially here, especially now,” Ryan began.

_…Baby, I can’t make it without you…_

“I’m sure you’ve moved on with your life,” he continued, some semblance of a hitch catching in his voice.

_…Please, I’m begging you, baby…_

“You were the person I always wanted to see when I came back…”  His voice trailed off.  “And you were always the hardest to say goodbye to when I left.”

_…If you go it will kill me, I swear it – girl, I just can’t bear it…_

As the song reached its heady climax, Stacy pushed away from Ryan, gathering her skirt in her hands and fleeing the room, before the tears threatening behind her eyes finally spilled over.

~*~

Ryan’s footsteps echoed through the gymnasium as he climbed the bleachers, his stride steady and firm against the permanently waxed wood.  Stacy didn’t bother to look at him from her perch near the top, her eyes trained steadily into her lap as she sat, bent over, her arms wrapped around her waist.  She let her tears flow freely now, sliding down her cheeks and falling, one by one, to stain her pale blue dress. 

As he drew closer, he offered a handkerchief, but she didn’t accept it.  A sob broke through her chest, and she tightened the brace of her arms, wanting nothing more than for him to hold her – but, at the same time, not wanting him to touch her.

He settled for a compromise, sliding down beside her on the bench.  He didn’t say a word, but she could feel his eyes on her, and the swirl of concern and mild confusion that emanated from him.  She tried to gather her thoughts, but it was nearly impossible, especially when he was so close, _so tempting_ –

“Why?” she choked out, her voice gravelly as it resonated through the empty space.  “Why did we break up?”

Ryan furrowed his brow.  “At the time, it was mutual – ” he started.

“No, it wasn’t!” she cut in insistently.  “I never wanted that!  I – ”  Another sob shook her shoulders, and she reached up to swipe at the tears still cascading down her cheeks.  “I felt like I was losing you, and then I _did_ , and now – you come back, and you say these things to me, and – I don’t know.”

He pressed the hanky into her hands, giving her a moment to calm herself, before attempting to respond.  When he did, it wasn’t exactly what she was expecting.

“Do you remember that summer?” he asked quietly.

She nodded mutely.  It was probably the best summer of her life, so intense and magical and special and romantic.  After everything they’d been through, after every trial they’d endured, every surprise they’d faced, and all the moments – happy and sad – they’d lived through, finally, that sweet summer, they had the time to spend together, one on one, building and nurturing and fostering their relationship.  They were both so happy and secure and content with their lives, and she’d never felt closer to another person on the planet as she did to him then.

It was hard to think about now, in retrospect, knowing what was just around the corner as summer turned to fall.  Her memory had cast a bittersweet pall over it, locking away those precious images in a safe place, where maybe one day she could take them out and examine them again without feeling the tinge of hurt alongside such sweet first love.

“And when I brought you up to my dorm room – ”

“Yeah, with all the others,” she remarked with a wry smile, her mind’s eye conjuring that fateful visit on the day he moved into his new living quarters.  The other members of the band had swarmed around as well, at turns in awe and unimpressed with his freshman dorm, compulsory for all new students at the school.

He smiled.  “As I recall, that was merely to assure your parents I wasn’t sweeping you into the city to have sex with you, away from their prying eyes,” he reminded her drolly, pushing her elbow lightly with his.  He paused, his tone losing its light quality.  “But I did that, because I wanted you to be a part of my ‘new’ life, this grand adventure that was Julliard…but it hardly seemed fair to you when I realized – I had _no idea_ what that ‘new life’ really was.”

She lifted her eyes, glancing over at him for the first time since they’d started this conversation. 

“We moved around a lot when I was kid, until we moved here,” he continued, his voice thoughtful and somber.  “And then we stayed, for a relatively long time – my dad was happy with his job, and I’d made friends...”  He glanced at her.  “…and so much more.  So it was really weird for me, suddenly starting over in a new place again.”  His shoulders fell into a shrug.  “I might not have gone far, but I might as well have picked up and moved to another planet – at least, that’s how _alien_ it felt.”

Stacy sniffled.  “You don’t think it was hard for me, when you left?”

He shook his head, fidgeting with the ends of his sleeves.  “Not in the same way,” he said slowly.  “I mean, you still had your family, and your friends, and the band.  Was I wrong to think that would cushion the blow a little bit?”

She nodded, biting her lower lip as her eyes drifted back into her own lap.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed.  “I’ve always tried to do what was right for you – _for us_ – and I didn’t think it was fair to leave you hanging while I went out and ‘found myself.’  We were drifting apart, and – I never wanted to hurt you, Stace.”  His voice trailed off for a moment.  “If we had kept on…we would’ve hated what we were doing to each other.”

She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she knew he was right.  Near the end, most of their time together felt strained – not by fighting or bickering, but by silence.  What did they have to talk about, now that they lived in different places, had different friends, and went to different schools?  She didn’t want to burden him with her problems – she never had – and it was painful to hear about the life he was leading without her.

“But even now, after finding my place in the city and settling into my life, I’ve felt this – restlessness,” Ryan continued.  “It’s like…I’m still searching for something that I never really realized I’d lost, until it was gone.  And then it hit me, like a ton of fucking bricks – what I was looking for was what I shared with _you_.  What we had together, the history we’ve shared since we were kids.”  Tentatively, he laid a hand on her shoulder, his fingers splaying across her bare back.

Heaviness permeated the air around them, full of anxious anticipation.  “So what are you saying?” Stacy asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her tears slowing to a trickle.

Ryan tightened his grip on her, drawing her attention back to his face, his piercing eyes so perfectly framed by his beautiful dark hair.  “I love you, Stacy,” he replied.  “I hope it’s not too late to say that.”

 _It’s not too late_ , she wanted to say, _it’s never too late!_   But the words were lodged in her throat, which had closed over the lump that had risen up along with her tears.  For a long, agonizing moment, his eyes searched hers, his hand warm and firm on her shoulder.  She wanted to reach for him, but she couldn’t, absolutely paralyzed with fear – of opening her heart, of this all being a dream, of only finding rejection at the end of this rambling conversation.

“I see,” he finally said, withdrawing from her, though his gaze still locked to hers.  “You _are_ involved with someone else.”

“No!” she sputtered, ultimately able to find her voice.  “It’s not that!  It’s just – why _now_?”  _Why now, after such a long time, so seemingly out of the blue?_

A sad smile touched the corners of his mouth.  “The song,” he replied, understanding the unspoken meaning of her hasty question.  “We’re studying the ‘Wall of Sound’ phenomenon in one of my classes, along with its legacy and imitators – and this song was brought up for discussion many, many times, as it’s the earliest example of successful recreation.”  He shook his head, finding himself blathering off course.  “But that’s not the point.  I always get stuck on the lyrics of these pieces for some strange reason, and when I heard this song again, in class?  It made _everything_ fall into place.  Suddenly, after months of fruitless searching, I knew what I was looking for.”

He reached for her again, fingers trailing across her brow, over her temple.  “It reminded me of my senior year, and just how much you got me through it,” he continued, his touch as soft as his words.  “If not for you, I never would’ve written that piece – and if not for you, I never would’ve played it so perfectly at the audition.”  He paused, letting his hand fall away again as it reached her shoulder.  “I owe so much of this life to you, and I still want you in it.  But if I’ve been a fool, by waiting too long…”

 _Never_ , she thought swiftly, wrapping her arms around his neck, unable to trust that she could give voice to the fleet of emotions currently tumbling through her.  She felt the jolt of surprise that shot down his spine at her unexpected hug, and then – mercifully, _finally_ – his arms were around her, retuning the embrace, curving around her waist in perfect measure.  She pressed herself against him, squeezing him as tight as she dared, losing herself in the comfort of her memories, mixing with reality.  She buried her nose in the nape of his neck, fresh tears spilling from the corners of her eyes.

She felt his hands slipping away, but stayed firmly in place, not wanting to let him go.  “Whoever he is, he’s a lucky guy,” he whispered in her ear, his tone tinged with sadness, his breath warm against her cheek.

“Silly boy,” she replied with a sniffle, pulling away only far enough to gaze into his eyes.  “There isn’t anyone else.  There never was.”  Her fingers curled into his hair as the next rush of words escaped from her lips.  “I never wanted to break up with you – I never wanted to lose you.”  Her eyes fell away from his.  “I never really got over you.”

He reached up to touch her face, one thumb gliding over the crest of her cheek, wiping away her tears.  “So can we try again?” he asked, his gaze narrowing imperceptibly as he studied her.

She drew her lower lip between her teeth.  “That depends on what you want from me,” she replied.  _I love you too much to merely be a summer fling_ , she added silently, _so please – don’t –_

A slow smile curved his mouth.  “I want your senior year to be as special as you made mine,” he said, cupping her cheek, lifting her chin.

Her eyes slipped shut as their lips met, his kiss tentative at first.  A wave of pure bliss washed over her as she yielded to him, and not until that very moment did she realize how much she’d missed this, the simple but powerful intimacy a simple brush of lips could produce.  It was at once familiar and exciting, comforting and exhilarating, the way his mouth slanted over hers, so guiding and gentle and pliant, exploring old memories and creating new ones.

One kiss slipped into another, and another, until her body was flush against his, her hands buried in his hair, while he stroked little circles over the small of her back.  There was an edge of urgency to their actions, of recaptured love, of thirst to be quenched, of bliss to revel in – but there was no rush.  Long, slow, deep, kisses held until breath burned to be released, and bodies touching – cheek to cheek, chest to chest, hip to hip.

After two years of agony, her broken heart was finally healing – and, it appeared, not a moment too soon.

~*~

The two walked home hand in hand, just like old times.  Their pace was sedate and leisurely; their hearts exchanged, their heads in the clouds, neither could think of a more satisfying ending to the long and eventful evening.

They hadn’t returned to the party, much preferring to spend their time alone, catching up, telling secrets, making new promises – of love, of time, of attention, of patience.  Only when the lights faded and the music died down did they realize how late it was, and reluctantly began the journey back to Stacy’s home.

As they approached the staid brick building, Ryan slowed his stride, gazing up at the endless rows of windows.  “I remember the first time I came here to pick you up,” he said, his voice drifting into his memories.

“I remember that day, too,” Stacy mused as they climbed the stairs.  “Because the first thing I did when I saw you – was this.”  As she reached the stoop, she turned suddenly, pressing her mouth to his, her arms drifting up to envelop his shoulders.

He smiled against her lips, indulging her memory for a moment.  “That’s when I knew I was in this for the long haul…whether I was ready for it or not,” he replied, stepping up to join her.

Stacy stepped ever so slightly to her left, just far enough to illuminate the outside light.  She admired the way it fell over him with a soft, golden glow, casting slight shadows against his features, highlighting his already sinfully handsome visage.  “Thank you for coming with me tonight,” she said, twining her arms around his neck.

His hands circled her waist, drawing her close and making her shiver with heat and delight.  “I think I’m the one who should be thanking you,” he murmured, leaning close for another searing kiss.

It felt so easy, so freeing to fall into him now, as if the last two years hadn’t happened, and they could just pick up where they left off all those summers before.

All too soon, he pulled away, nipping at her lower lip.  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispered.

“Tomorrow,” she echoed, not yet willing to let him go.

He pressed another quick, soft kiss to her lips.  “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she sighed, reluctantly releasing him.  He granted her a tiny smile as he turned to leave, and she hung back on the stoop, watching him descend the stairs and disappear into the night.  Gathering the energy to not completely dissolve into a lovey-dovey puddle, she turned and opened the door of the building, almost immediately running into a solid figure on the other side.

She screamed as light suddenly filled the foyer.

“Kid!” she cried, exhaling sharply and playfully shoving his shoulder.  “Don’t do that to me!  You nearly scared me half to death!”

The Kid merely grinned at her.  “Heh, sorry,” he apologized, drawing her into a light hug to convey that no harm was done.  “I just had to make sure my queen made it home safely.”  The two lived in the same building, albeit four floors away from each other.  As it was, he was standing in the foyer in his pajamas, two cups of tea sitting on a nearby sill. 

He handed one of the mugs to her as he motioned at the door with a tilt of his chin.  “So it looks like everything worked out, eh?”

She took a sip, grateful for the warm liquid coating the back of her throat.  Aside from all the heat she and Ryan had generated on the stoop, she was freezing, the temperatures unseasonably cool, even for late April.  “You?”

The Kid couldn’t wipe the self-satisfied smirk off his face at her query.  “You’re not the only one with a date tomorrow,” he confirmed.

“Oh, that’s great!” Stacy enthused.  “So are you glad you waited for her?”

“Yeah, she was definitely worth it.”  The Kid nodded, his expression turning thoughtful.  “And who knows?  Maybe she’s the one.” 

He took a long draw from his mug.  “But more importantly, Ryan and Stacy are back together.”  He lifted his free hand, sweeping the air in front of him.  “All is right with the world once more.”

Stacy glanced up at him, cautiously optimistic.  “I certainly hope so,” she replied.

They stood in amiable silence for a few moments, finishing off the last of the tea.  Finally, Stacy peered at her friend, a vision of him with his prom king crown and gaudy scepter flashing behind her eyes.  “So – did it turn out to be your perfect prom?  Everything you’d hoped for?”

“Yes,” he said definitively, with a firm nod.  “And you?”

“For all it could’ve been?  It wasn’t so bad.”  She sighed, throwing her arms around his shoulders.  “You were right about one thing, you know.”

“Oh?” he questioned as he returned the friendly embrace.  “And what, in particular, was I right about this time?”

She smiled, plucking the crowd from her head and placing it on his.  “It all worked out in the end, just like you said it would.”

The two laughed, continuing their light banter as they gathered their things and headed for the stairs.  Stacy couldn’t help but take a look back as they topped the first half-flight, a slow, satisfied smile rising to her lips.

Yes, it _had_ all worked out – maybe with a little turmoil and a little heartache, but in the end?  She couldn’t have asked for a better night…not even in her wildest dreams.


End file.
